You know what is wrong with America today?
Yes as a teacher I believe this wholeheartedly.
How did I come to this conclusion. Obviously the door to door religious salesmen in my neighborhood.
knock, knock … who is it? … It’s the Jesus people ma’am we are here to save you from the perils of the universe with only 3 easy payments
Every saturday a church group ( I am not going to say which church you can guess if you want) goes door to door in big groups throughout the neighborhood telling tales of how we are in the end times.
I decided that I had spoken with them enough times and put up a very classy silver no soliciting sign.
see the handprint- that is the ghost’s handprint. I am not lying.
Now, one would think that this wonderful sign would strongly let solicitors know I am warning them to stay off my property.
One problem, they do not know what soliciting means. Dead serious.
I have taken to barely opening the door, yelling no soliciting and slamming it shut. Has proven to be quite effective.
Enter if you dare....
I live in a fifty year old house. My house has been around almost twice as long as I have. Most of my house has been updated, but you just can’t update the bones of a house. The windows rattle in the wind on a stormy night. The walls are paper thin; allowing me to hear the neighborhood drama. But, the worst sounds come from the front door. All day long it sounds as if someone is falling on it. Perhaps one of the ninja cats from next door ran up and hit the door, or a stick flew through the air and landed at my doorstep. When I open the door, nothing. It has left me perplexed.
The only logical conclusion is ghosts, naturally. Everywhere you step in Louisiana there is another ghost. I wrote a theory on that here. It is possible I have my very own ghost. Someone was kidnapped and killed in my house 30 ish years ago, the gruesome details about that are here. Maybe the ghost kid is trying to get out of the house every day because at night the door does not make any noise. But what if, my door is actually enticing to all the ghosts in the neighborhood. Each time one of them enters the house the doors shifts. I did put out a welcome mat and paint the door a sexy red. I knew I should have painted my door a less slutty color.
I'm sexy and I know it
There is something different about the air in Louisiana. One day if you ever visit this great unique state you will understand.
Enter my theory as to why:
The air is alive. Literally. As people have passed away they get trapped in the thick swamp air making it thicker and thicker. Until the air is so filled with spirits that just a step outdoors in July and you feel like you are parting the air with each painstaking step. The sweat drips off your face yet never makes it to the ground. They soak it up.
But this must only be a problem in the summer. Wrong. Because every know and then the temperature drops below thirty. (That is not cold you say) But it is not the cold of which you are used to. It is as though in one small swipe every soul hanging in the live oaks took one deep breath in all at the same time. And the air is at once lifeless. Cutting right to the bone.
Be careful what you say they are listening…